Stop rearranging furniture

One of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, has a new book out called Some Assembly Required. I look forward to reading it, but spent a little time last night flipping through one of my favorites by her, Bird by Bird. This book is equal parts writing guide and life instruction manual. I think that may be why I love it so much.

While reading, I came to a chapter on Voice that I have reread countless times. For whatever reason, it resonated with me more deeply than ever. She says:

We write to expose the unexposed. If there is one door in the castle you have been told not to go through, you must. Otherwise, you'll just be rearranging furniture in rooms you've already been in. Most human beings are dedicated to keeping that one door shut. But the writer's job is to see what's behind it, to see the bleak unspeakable stuff, and to turn the unspeakable into words--not just into any words but if we can, into rhythm and blues...But you can't get to any of these truths by sitting in a field smiling beatifically, avoiding your anger and damage and grief. Your anger and damage and grief are the way to the truth. We don't have much truth to express unless we have gone into those rooms and closets and woods and abysses that we were told not to go in to. When we have gone in and looked around for a long while, just breathing and finally taking it in--then we will be able to speak in our own voice and to stay in the present moment.

And maybe that's it. The present moment in all of its fleeting glory is the gift we are given. It is what we get when we decide to stop rearranging furniture and instead decide to pull back the curtains and throw open the windows on the rooms we convinced ourselves were off limits. This is what I want for myself, to breathe in the dark places and watch the light flood in.